


Birds of a Feather

by Firegirl210



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firegirl210/pseuds/Firegirl210
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Maleval Drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: Don't own anything, wish I did, etc.

* * *

 

 Maleficent took in a deep breath. She stood alone on one of the mighty branches of the tree she called her home, the crisp morning breeze ruffling her newly reclaimed wings. It was the most wonderful feeling she knew, and her chest expanded with power, her wings flexing back over her head.

“They suit you,” a voice said gently, and she turned to find that a dark haired man had materialized in the brush behind her. He smiled crookedly, and she brushed her long hair over her shoulder.

“Of course they do. They’ve been mine all along. We were just apart.” She stroked one of the immense tawny limbs, gazing off into the distance. It had been a long seventeen years without her beautiful wings. Diaval moved closer, letting his dark eyes sweep down the enormous feathered extensions of his Mistress’ spirit and body. She noticed his gaze, and cuffed him playfully over the back of the head with a wingtip. He rubbed the offended area, smiling lopsidedly. He always seemed to be unable to perform the  human expression quite correctly.

“They’re beautiful,” he commented, and she drew them back proudly. He was in earnest, which made her feel strangely uncomfortable with his praise. She knew how to respond to sarcasm and teasing, but sincerity?

“Thank you.”

“But there’s a bit of matting here,” he pointed out, making one of his birdlike hopping motions around her and gesturing to a spot she could hardly see, much less reach. She extended her wings to their full, glorious span, and Diaval moved into their protective shade.

“They haven’t exactly been taken care of,” she murmured quietly, and he looked at her with an oddly measured expression.

“I’ll help you groom them,” he offered, and she raised an eyebrow at her manservant of many years. He flushed slightly, and several nervous feathers sprouted along his hands and arms. “As a bird, I believe I’d be the most qualified.” She settled down crosslegged on the branch, presenting her wings to him to be cleaned. When he didn’t move, she glanced over her shoulder, brilliant eyes playful.

“Well? They’re not going to groom themselves,” she heckled, ruffling her sienna feathers, and Diaval crouched down behind her. He brushed his fingers through the silky feathers, combing out the dust and matted sweat, and coaxing out singed and scorched plumes with deft hands. She sighed softly, letting her eyes fall closed.

“You must be quite a sensation with the female ravens,” she teased, and he chuckled.

“Oh no, Mistress, I’m quite the loner.” 

“There’s no one who’s caught your eye?” He met her gaze for only a moment before looking down.

“No, Mistress.”

Maleficent shook her feathers out disdainfully. “You needn’t call me that any longer, Diaval. I’ve told you, you’re not my servant.”

Diaval drew back. “Of course. I’m sorry.” She turned at the stricken tone in her dear friend’s voice. He looked so sad, and she tut-tutted at him.

“Now Diaval, why the long face?” She waved a slender hand, and with a sprinkling of gold the man’s face elongated into that of a dreadfully sad looking horse. He whinnied indignantly, shaking himself and changing back to his human form. Maleficent laughed, and he scowled affrontedly.

“I thought we’d decided I would be responsible for my own transformations!”

“I couldn’t help myself, dear.” He huffed and turned into a raven with a puff of dark smoke, landing on her shoulder and pecking petulantly at her horns. She waved him off, shooing him away with a flap of her great wings. “You’re a petty bird,” she crooned teasingly, and he rested his small warm head against her cheek, snuggled beneath the waves of her hair. She stroked his gleaming feathers, smiling at their brightness. “You must tell me how you make your feathers shine so. Mine look a bit sad after being in a cage for so long.”

Diaval changed form so quickly the transformation was incomplete, his anxious face still flecked with feathers and his sleek hair standing up in a plume. “No, they’re perfect!” he assured her, and she gave him a long, measured look. Then she drew the raven closer, smoothing his hair with her hands and a small dusting of magic.

“You’re a kind friend, Diaval. Kinder than I deserve,” she told him softly, and he caught her hands before she could release him fully.

“No. You deserve...everything,” he said earnestly, seemingly at a loss for what exactly he believed she deserved and settling for the broadest thing he could imagine. She was startled by his vehement response, as her manservant was usually soft spoken.

“I mean--not _everything_. You deserve a happy and peaceful life surrounded by beautiful things and people who love you. You’ve been through so much, and so much of it was wrong. You deserve better than me, better than anyone can give you.”

It all came out in a rush, and once it had the Raven seemed alarmed by his confession, for he backed away hurriedly, trying to gather himself enough to transform and fly away, but Maleficent caught his dark coat sleeve and held him fast.

“Diaval?”

Her tone was stern, and he turned towards her obediently.

“Yes Mistress?” She sighed, tucking a strand of dark hair out of his face.

“I am not your Mistress. But I would beseech you to answer me honestly when I ask you this. Is there something you need to tell me?” Distressed feathers sprang back into his hair and along his fingers, and she soothed them away gently.

“I-I...I would like to be one of them,” he managed, and she waited expectantly for him to continue. “One of...the people. I would like to stay by your side, if you’ll have me.”

“You silly bird,” she chided, which made him start, “where else would I let you go? Manservant or not, I wouldn’t last a day without you.” His plumage ruffled, and he turned a pleased and embarrassed shade of maroon. She laughed and drew him to her side, embracing him.

“You seem surprised.”

“I am...glad to be needed,” he admitted, and she tucked his head into the hollow of her neck, stroking his hair.

“Oh my Diaval. Surely you don’t believe I could ever not need you.” He breathed softly against her skin, the silence of the early morning shrouding them in stillness.

"I'll always need you."

"Is that a promise?"

She folded her wings around him in a warm, feathery embrace.

"It is."

"I suppose I'll stick around until you get tired of me then, Mistress,” he murmured.

“That is quite unlikely to happen, you know.”

“Why?”

“Oh...something about birds of a feather and all that.”

Diaval laughed, stroking the silky wings encasing them. “Flock together?”

She kissed his pale brow. “And stay together.” 


	2. Chapter 2

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Disclaimer: Not my babies

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Maleficent and Aurora padded softly down the stairs, crossing the deserted hallway carefully. The whole palace seemed to be deserted. I fluttered along the walls, checking corridors nervously. It was too quiet. I was thrilled we had broken the curse, and ecstatic to see the enormous burden lifted from Mistress’ shoulders, but it was not the time to let our guard down.

Maleficent beckoned to Aurora, who had fallen behind. She seemed to be sharing my fears.

Suddenly an ominously loud click sounded from above, and an enormous chain link net struck Maleficent down. She screamed as the metal scorched her skin, and Aurora cried out and ran to her. Guards were streaming from the corridors, and I frantically flew at them as they approached my Mistress with spears and swords.

_Protect me._

I dive bombed a guard, but one struck me with a gauntleted hand and I staggered, winded. Useless, helpless, strengthless--

“Into a Dragon.”

Her words enveloped me like an updraft of summer air, her golden magic catching my wings. I felt the tingling of transformation, felt my flesh stretch, my bones grow heavy. Something hot and ancient burned in my belly, and I gazed upon the humans with a sudden sense of power, an immeasurable rage.  

I exhaled flame and wrath upon them like the hellfire of their devil. They fled screaming, burning, howling with pain. Protect me.

Maleficent slumped beneath her iron prison, and I roared with fury, slamming through a line of men with my two-ton tail, smashing armor and bone. Protect me.

I crouched defensively over her, biting the iron netting with my teeth the size of swords and hauling it up and away, felling guards with their own torturous trap. She rolled to safety, but the dozens of guards were becoming hundreds, all with their attention focused on the dragon in their parlor. My skin stung as with nettles as they showered me with spears, arrows, and sword strikes, piercing my hide in a dozen places. Panic took over, animal forcing human consciousness down as I flailed and roared, spewing fire. Voices screamed--one seemed familiar.

_Protect me._

I thrashed in pain and frenzy, and suddenly was pulled down as a chain flew over my neck, anchored by men on either side. I pulled against it, but another caught my leg, a third wrapped around my muzzle.

Movement in the corner of my eye. Shields, war shields, weilded by men, surrounding Maleficent. I jerked forcefully, sending a line of guards tumbling, but more took their place, anchoring me with chains, binding a wing, my flailing tail, my legs

_Protect me._

Unable to speak, I roared. Flames flickered all around; my feet fell from beneath me, pulled out by soldiers, and I fell hard on my right wing, struggling, writhing, desperate to regain my feet. They stabbed me viciously with all manner of weapon--I could not see Maleficent.

_Protect me!_

A beat rose up from the shields, and the sound of iron striking flesh sounded above the melee. I cried out, kicking, screaming. We had never planned to die here.

Suddenly, through my haze of pain and panic, a golden light outshone the dragonfire that burned in the great hall. I strained to look--

Maleficent hovered there, framed in fire, supported by a pair of magnificent tawny wings. She was beautiful, terrible, perfect.

“Kill her!”

Projectiles flew from every direction to strike her down, and suddenly the dragon in the room wasn’t the greatest threat. They turned attention from me, and she struck down a fiery chandelier, causing enough disruption for me to wrench free, roaring triumphantly.

We wrought havoc on them, shattering them, scattering them. I smeared the hall with their blood, thickened the air with their ash.

_**Protect me.** _

I swore on that day in the field to be her servant, and serve I would. I would protect her until death took us both, if need be. I fought through pain and fear and reason until at last, there was no one left to fight.

The King was dead, and his forces fled, leaving a wounded dragon, a frightened, soot-stained princess, and a renewed faerie to flee.

 


	3. Diaval Does Not Appreciate Flippant Abuse of Transformative Powers

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Disclaimer: Disclaimer

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Diaval changed with a smoky rush back from the mule I had transformed him into in order to carry Aurora back through the thorn forest to her cottage. He stumbled, getting reaccustomed to two legs, and turned to me with a furious expression on his pale face.

“You know, I put up with a lot of maltreatment from you,” he fumed, and I raised my eyebrows at his tone. He never spoke to me this way--well, almost never. He was a bit on the irreverent side.

“I’ve let you turn me into anything that suits your fancy for the moment. I’ve been a man, a raven, a horse, and other things that weren’t so bad. But you’ve turned me into a fish, a dung fly, a wolf, and now a mule?”

“When did I turn you into a dung fly?” I interrupted, and he sighed.

“The time you were angry with me. It’s a cruel punishment! Or that time Aurora wanted a pet and you turned me into a cat! I was coughing up hairballs for weeks!”

“You were a cat for barely an hour. Don’t complain.”

“And another thing! You turned me into a rat to spy on the pixies once and left me that way! For two days!”

“I wondered where you had gotten to.”

He folded his arms, brow furrowed deeply. “I promised I’d serve you, and I do. I always do anything you ask of me. But I don’t appreciate your abusing me!”

“I think that might be a stretch, Diaval, I’ve never harmed you,” I pointed out, feeling a bit irritated by this point in his tirade.

“I want you to ask me before you change me into things that I haven’t expressed my approval of,” he demanded, and I moved closer intimidatingly.

“Is that a request or an order?” I asked, my voice low. Diaval rarely showed such disrespect, but this time he held his ground.

“It’s a statement.”

“A statement?”

“Of respect.”

“Respect. You think I don’t respect you?”

He looked down, and I realized that I had struck the heart of the matter. I sighed and drew him to me, stroking his sleek hair as I did when he was a raven and perched at my side.

“I do respect you, Diaval. I’m sorry for causing you such distress. I shan’t change you into anything repulsive or embarrassing without your permission.”

He looked up, and smiled.

“Thank you, Mistress. And, next time, could I maybe have some say in--”

“Don’t push your luck.”

 

 

 


	4. Mend Me With Your Love

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Disclaiming all things

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Maleficent emerged from the cordoned off section of Hometree where a bed had been made up for our newly freed Princess Aurora. My Mistress looked gaunt and weary, but glowed as she had to duck to avoid hitting her horns, or more wonderfully, her newly reclaimed wings on the framing.

“How is she?” I asked nervously. The poor girl did just experience an unsatisfying, dream-ruining homecoming, fall into an eternal sleep, awake from said eternal sleep, watch her godmother and friend battle for their lives against her own kind, and lose the only blood relation she had left, all in one day.

“Sleeping,” Mistress replied, sitting down beside me. I smiled at her, admiring her lovely wings.

“I’m so proud of you,” I told her, and she glanced my way with a slightly surprised expression.

“You just spent several hours as a dragon. I’m rather proud of you.”

I shrugged, then winced as a stinging pain zinged down my arm. She noticed, and moved closer.

“Are you injured? Diaval, you should have said something,” she chided, and I looked down sheepishly.

“Not badly. Just some scratches.”

“Let me see.”

I obediently peeled off my dark coat, the fabric clinging to my human self where my blood had dried. She knelt in front of me, her slender hands moving across my broken skin.

“You were a marvelous dragon,” she told me softly, and I laughed.

“Well I’m rubbish at being most things. Maybe a dragon is what I was meant to be all along!”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

Her golden magic bathed us in light as she closed the skin where it had been rent by spears and swords and arrows.

“You’ll have scars,” she apologized, and I shrugged.

“It’s not like anyone looks at this ugly mug anyway.”

She looked up at me through her eyelashes, her full lips pinched in the disapproving way that made her phenomenal cheekbones even more prominent. She flicked a strand of my dark hair out of my eyes, and I flinched as that resulted in a burning pain above my right temple. She cupped my face, running her fingers through my hair as she looked for the wound.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, Diaval,” she said out of the blue, and I shrugged as her golden light healed the wound on my brow. She glanced down, and my heart did a strange little flip at her proximity.

“I still live, don’t I? I’m harder to get rid of than that!”

She kissed the now-scar on my forehead, and my breathing quickened.

“I’m certainly grateful for that,” she said gently, and I finally let myself think about how close I had come to losing her today. I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face in her shoulder, taking a deep breath, breathing her in. She smelled like petrichor, and fresh leaves, and ponderosa bark, and melting streams; she smelled like subtle flowers that you could only smell at the peak heat of a summer day, and even then only for an instant. She smelled like everything I had ever loved.

“Diaval? Are you alright?”

I pulled away, laughing so she wouldn’t see that I had almost broken down. “Fine, fine. Just couldn’t resist you for a moment there,” I teased, and her expression softened. She stroked my hair away from my brow, and my smile faded. “I am fine though. Just...I thought I would lose both my girls today! I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Your girls?”

I flushed slightly at her raised eyebrow, but refused to back down.

“Yes, my girls. You and Aurora are the two most important people in my life! If I lost you, I’d probably cease to exist on the spot. Especially you, Mistress.” Why had I admitted that? I shouldn’t have. Stupid! Foolish! Gah! “Anyway, I’m all fixed up now so no more reason to worry. I’ll just get some beauty sleep--”

She gripped my chin as I tried to turn my head, to escape the situation I had put myself in. I looked up at her insistence.

“You really think you’d cease to exist?”

“Well, I mean--” I fumbled, “I haven’t been away from you for seventeen years or so by now. How am I to know what I’d do without you? Who I’d be? I…” her expression put a stop to my jesting tone. “I’d be dead without you.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Not at all. I’ve outlived my natural raven lifespan by now, probably twice over. You gave me back my life, and you gave me a life I could never have had with anyone but you. I’m just glad I didn’t lose that.”

She hummed in intrigue, and caressed my jawline. “That’s sweet, Diaval. You should express your feelings more often.”

“I would if you’d let me have an opinion that differs from yours!” I pointed out, then regretted my disrespectfulness. She raised an eyebrow.

“What is your opinion of me?”

“You’re my Mistress and you’re always right and you’re always beautiful,” I recited automatically, and she cuffed me over the head.

“I mean really.”

“Oh.” I glanced at her, then away. “You are beautiful. And usually right,” I pointed out, but continued. “Very strong. Very driven. Very determined. Honorable. Brave. Did I already say beautiful?”

She continued her soothing stroking of my hair, and smiled at me.

“Thank you, Diaval. For everything. For your devotion, your protection, your admiration. You’ve been indispensable to me these last seventeen years.” She pressed a hand to my chest, her eyes falling closed.

“It’s time to set you free.”

The room glowed with golden light, and I felt a strange swelling of energy and power, as if I had swallowed the sun. When her light faded, I felt so strong I wanted to run for miles, so light I could float past the sky.

“What have you--”

“I’ve given you sovereignty of your transformative powers. You may change at will now. To anything you wish, although some of the more complex ones may take some practice.”

I threw my arms around her, beaming. “Mistress, I--thank you!” I said breathlessly, and she smiled. There was a hint of sadness in it that I didn’t understand.

“You’re free, Diaval. I’m not your mistress any longer.”

I froze. “You...want me to leave?”

“I can’t ask you to stay, you’ve already given me so much,” she said, taking my hand. She touched the scars on my pale skin softly. “You’ve bled for me enough. You’re a free man. Or, a free Raven, I suppose.”

I bowed my head, feeling suddenly sick. She was sending me away after all this time.

“I’ll be gone at first light, if that’s what you wish,” I said softly, and she rested her head against mine.

“Diaval...what I wish is far too selfish. Do only as you wish.”

“What do you mean selfish?” I asked, and she looked into my eyes with the vibrant green orbs that danced with life and then looked away.

“I would have you stay. But I have stolen far too much of your life as it is, and I could never ask--”

She broke off because I had grabbed her behind her horns and pulled her into a kiss, a last, desperate attempt to beg her to let me stay.

“I’d never leave you unless you sent me away,” I said breathlessly when I released her lips, and I dropped my head in a bow to her, already shocked by the foolishness of what I’d done. “And even if you sent me away, I’d never be able to go far. I’ve given you too much for that.” I pressed her hand to my heart where it beat like a caged bird’s. “Far too much to get back.”

She stared at me in surprise, and then smiled softly. She kissed me gently with her full, crimson lips.

“I’m very, very glad you said that Diaval. I just sent my heart away, but he was too stubborn to leave.”

I pulled her into an embrace, so happy that I could sprout wings and fly away. In fact, I felt a strange sensation and glanced down to find that my arms were indeed sprouting feathers at my mood.

Nothing could ever hurt again when joy like this existed in the world.

 

 


	5. In The Line of Fire

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Disclaimer: I don't own these nerds

* * *

 

Maleficent stumbled from Diaval's back as he landed at the base of Hometree. They had been pursued from the castle, hunted by dogs and men to the edge of the Moors where her thorn wall had been their only salvation. She had transformed Diaval into a great eagle to fend off their hunters and carry her to safety, and as he staggered on taloned feet she realized his black feathers were slick with blood.

She changed him to his human shape and he collapsed against her, clutching his side.

"Let me see," she knelt with him, peeling his dark coat away from his pale skin. He was covered in grime from their hasty flight, and she realized she couldn't tell what was grime and what was blood in his dark hair.

She summoned water from the nearby river, washing his face and neck as he shivered in and out of consciousness. A guard’s arrow had pierced his side, and the broken shaft protruded from his torso. He had taken a glancing blow to the face from a spear during their escape and the gash ran down his right cheekbone and continued across his collarbone, deep enough to show muscle and flesh.

"Oh Diaval," she breathed, cursing not for the first time her own selfishness and lack of foresight. He always suffered for her mistakes.

"Remove what is foreign," she whispered, hands glowing gold as she bent over the arrow shaft, and he groaned as the iron head eased from his flesh and fell, hissing red hot from Faerie magic to the earth.

Blood oozed from the wound and she held him to her, hands crossed over his ribcage.

"Mend what is broken."

The golden glow of her power illuminated his face, and the wound sealed beneath her fingers. She wiped away the blood, and felt her heart sink. The damage had been sealed by raised scar tissue, uneven and pale.

His cheek wound was still bleeding, and she leaned in, pressing her fingers to the open gash down his face and neck. The flesh crawled together, forming a ridge across his pale brow and down his collarbone.

"Mmm..." He blinked only eyes, and they focused on her face groggily. "Mistress? Are you alright?"

She smiled gently. "I am. Are you?"

He sat up, touching his head as if dizzy. His fingers grazed the new scar on his body and he blinked owlishly, touching it curiously.

"What happened? How long was I out?" He asked, and she took his hand away from his face.

"Not long. I...I tried to heal you. Injuries done by iron weapons can only be mended so much by Faerie magic. I'm sorry, I thought you might die if I let it alone."

He nodded, seeming dazed from loss of blood. "I think you should sleep now, Diaval."

"I think you're right," he agreed, and promptly slumped over in her arms. She changed him to a much more portable raven form, and was dismayed as she lifted him into her arms to find the scarring was still present.

She had saved him, but scarred him forever.

How much damage would he take for her revenge?

 


End file.
